The question is: could a man in my position be seen attending a concert, or “gig”, featuring psychedelic rock music tinged with Swedish folk influences?
Yes, of course he could. I had to throw caution to the wind. My mate Aidan and I had been fans of Dungen for years, and this was a rare visit of theirs to Scotia Minor. Indeed, we were going despite the fact that our footer team was engaged in a major match that evening.
It meant checking our portable telephones for such parochial trivia as the score, while everyone else was floating away to the sound of a dreamy keyboard. It would have been easier if we could have floated to yonder Glasgow rather than taking the car, as it took several hours to find a parking spot.
Then we couldn’t find the venue, which was so trendy it didn’t have its name on it. Indeed, we walked right past it twice. Turns out it was really just a pub. And our gig was in the basement of that. I’d envisaged hundreds of aficionados of Scandinavian prog rock attending. In the end, there were perhaps 70 souls.
One man was even older than us. Everyone else, concomitantly, was quite young, a condition that I find disgraceful. Some of these bairns might even have had all of the band’s seven albums, as do I. I play Dungen (pronounced Dun-yen or Doon-yen and meaning “The Grove”) in the car all the time and supposed that the rest of the nation was similarly engaged.
But, no, this was clearly a minority taste. Perhaps it’s the fact that the band sings in Swedish. Why that should matter I’ve no idea. Half of pop music’s lyrics are unintelligible anyway.
I should explain that psychedelic just means sixties-influenced and a bit wibbly-wobbly, ken? It’s often blamed on Pink Floyd but I don’t really see it like that. Dungen are much more pastoral and pleasantly melancholic. Theirs is, to put it scientifically, music for elves. The singer wore a tie-dyed shirt. I confess now that my own three-piece suit and tie was a bit misplaced. However, the tie was of many colours. Well, three.
It was great gig, what I could see of it. We were at the back, and young folk are devilishly tall these days. Some were bobbing their heads, but the management ignored my request to intervene. Two people down the front were actually dancing, but they had the excuse of being Swedish, judging by their porcelain complexions and effortlessly trendy haircuts.
I tapped my foot from time to time but, in the main, I attend concerts to listen not move. As I see it, the music is there to move me, not vice-versa.
But, all that said, I do like getting out to hear live concerts. It’s a communal experience with, in this case, 70 souls united by sound. Afterwards, Aidan and I were stuck on the M8 for several days (roadworks), but our team won at the footer, so overall we accounted the evening a roaring success.
I may even go out in the evening again some time. I’m told there are places where you can watch films with hundreds of other people. Wow. What a time to be alive.
